


For the sake of an angel

by Adara_Rose



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Light Angst, M/M, Prisoner Hannibal Lecter, Reunions, Will is an Idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5476202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will visits Hannibal in jail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the sake of an angel

Will’s feet felt impossibly heavy as he descended the staircase into the ward, feeling like he was descending into hell. He twisted his wedding ring over and over again, trying to decide whether to remove it or keep it on. Both options felt wrong. He ignored the orderly walking two steps behind him, doing his best to focus on what lay ahead. The corridor was chilly and dark, but WIll walked with his back straight, refusing to let his discomfort show. Would not give the good doctor the satisfaction. Or was it that he didn’t want Hannibal to see the turmoil he was in? Not that it was any good hiding any of it; Hannibal would take one look at his face and immediately know everything. He ignored the catcalls and whoops from the other prisoners, focused on keeping his back straight and his feet steady as he approached the cell that held the man who tormented both his dreams and his nightmares.

Hannibal lay on the thin cot staring up at the ceiling, hands resting languidly on his flat stomach. Even in the prison jumpsuit he was as handsome as ever and Will’s traitorous heart skipped a beat. He moved as close to the glass as he was permitted, wishing for a wild moment that it would just fall away and let him through. Then Hannibal sat up slowly, capturing him in his cold blue eyes. But they weren’t cold, were they? Deep, deep within them there was a spark of… not tenderness, no, the man was not capable of tenderness. Possession? Hunger? Lust? Triumph? Maybe all of them.

“Hello, Will.” He said and his voice still made shivers run down Will’s spine. Still made him tremble.  

“Hannibal” he whispered, his tongue shaping the syllables effortlessly, as if made to speak them. He forgot why he was there, forgot the interview questions, forgot everything as he looked into those dangerous eyes. Hannibal stood up slowly and approached the glass, stopping two feet from it. WIll wanted him to move closer, to stand so close that his breath would mist the glass, so he could pretend that he felt that same breath on his face.

“Hannibal” he whispered again, and this time there was a hint of a whimper in it.

“Why?” He asked desperately. _Why did you let us catch you? Why didn’t you fight? Run? Anything?_

Hannibal looked at him with those hypnotic eyes, holding him prisoner in his gaze, undoing him just by watching. Then he spoke.

“One may tolerate hell for the sake of an angel.”

Will visibly flinched.

“I’m no angel” he said, feeling helpless and hating it.

“You are to me.”


End file.
